


Perfect

by theKristastrophe



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Andrew Minyard - Freeform, Brief mention of Kevin Day, F/F, M/M, Neil Josten - Freeform, and Renee Walker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-05-23 12:36:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14934383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theKristastrophe/pseuds/theKristastrophe
Summary: Everything turned out perfect





	Perfect

Sara is not a morning person. At all. Which is why she can't understand how she ended up with such a giddy morning person like Laila. 

Sara rolls over and watches her gorgeous girl tie her long, thick curls up into a high ponytail.  
“Are you still meeting Jean for breakfast?” She asked quietly, sliding a thick purple headband in place. 

Sara sleepily hums an agreement. Laila giggles and bounds over to drop a kiss forehead. Sara catches her by the wrist and pulls her into a proper kiss. Laila moans low but pushes her away gently. 

“If I'm late Jer will kill me.”" Laila giggles against her lips. Sara rolls her eyes knowing Jean is probably doing his best to keep his boy in his bed too. They don't ever succeed but old habits die hard. 

Laila smiles softly and tucks a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear. “I'll see you later baby.” 

Sara huffs but accepts the light kiss from Laila anyway.

“Go so I can sleep.” 

Sara can hear her girl's giggles until the door click shut behind her. She rolls over and snuggles up with Laila’s pillow. She's got another ten minutes before the Frenchie drags himself to her room. She'll give herself those ten minutes. 

 

Thirty minutes later she finds herself sitting across from a still sleep rumpled Jean at their favorite cafe across campus. She sips on her mimosa and casually looks around. 

They found this spot one weekend that Laila and Jeremy had to go away for a conference. Jeremy, afraid of leaving a still healing Jean completely alone, begged her to keep him company. Sara was planning on doing so anyway because she didn't want to be alone all weekend either. 

She still refuses to admit that. 

Anyway she had expected their first meal together to be an awkward disaster which is why she picked a mutual spot. The cafe,named Apple of Discord after the very thing that started the Trojan War, was anything but. It's warm and bright with soft leather benches and huge windows kept open most of the year. They both fell in love and that was before they had tried the food. 

Which was amazing, by the way. 

The two of them had a wonderful time getting tipsy off of bottomless mimosas and bitching about their teammates, this lover’s weird but endearing habits, the NCAA, and classes. By the time Laila and Jeremy got back, early morning brunch had become a thing. It fit perfectly with their respective lovers insane need to be grossly athletic at the crack of dawn. 

Sara flicks her gaze back towards her brunch partner. He's slightly red from his third mimosa, frown on his face. She nudges her foot against his. 

He startles and then calms, sending a small smile her way. 

“Whatcha thinking about Jean Valjean?” 

He rolls his eyes at the nickname. He opens his mouth answer but the waitress returns with their breakfasts. A parfait and blueberry pancakes for Jean and a banana-nutella crepes for Sara. 

Jean winces like he does every week. 

Blasphème. You Americans have no taste.” 

Sara rolls her eyes and stabs a piece of the soft roll. “Mhm. Stop stalling. Spill.” 

Jean groans and drains his mimosa. Sara waits patiently. If there anything she's learned over the months of brunches it's that Jean will tell her things if she doesn't pry. She busies herself with filling their glasses and digging into her delectable breakfast.

“It's Kevin.” He sighs.

Sara arches an eyebrow, waiting for him to explain. Jean fiddles with his fork, spreading the blueberry syrup around his plate. 

“His birthday is coming up and Kevin wants to go to the cemetery.” 

“Absolutely fucking not.” She snarls. Jean flinches slightly at her tone and Sara forces herself to reign in her anger. 

She gives him a small smile and slowly reaches across the table with her free hand. She waits until he nods before covering his hand with hers, rubbing the crooked fingers. 

“Desole.” She tells him, squeezing lightly and then withdraws it back to her lap. Sara has to take a deep breath and try to control the absolute rage she feels. 

While she thinks Kevin Day is a phenomenal striker, she also thinks he's a fucking insensitive, narcissistic bastard. And a slight homophobe to boot which makes no sense considering HIS relationship with Minyard and Josten. 

Sara bites her tongue and aggressively shoves a bite into her mouth. She uses the few seconds her mouth is full to continue to calm down and come up with a response that won't be completely insulting to the Fox striker or upset he sweet man in front of her any further. 

When she meets Jean's eyes again there's a hint of amusement mixed with trepidation and latent fear. 

Fuck being nice. 

“He's a fucking bastard and you're not going.” She tells him flatly. She resolves to text Renee and see if she can talk to her idiotic teammate. 

“But-” 

“But nothing Jean Pierre Moreau. You owe them nothing. Not a thought. Not a prayer. And certainly not a fucking visit on the day of that monster’s birth.” 

Jean looks so surprised at her anger on his behalf that it makes her want to tear down The Nest herself. She wonders if this is how Jeremy feels sometimes. 

Fuck it. She's texting Kevin Day herself. 

Jean blinks at her. “Je ne t'ai jamais vu aussi en colère.” 

“Translation Frenchie. I'm too angry to decode Jean speak right now.” 

He snorts. “You're angry.” 

“Oui.” 

Jean laughs outright and it soothes a bit of the rage monster dancing in her chest. 

“Why?” He toys with the the steam of his champagne glass. Sara takes a deep breath and forces herself to fucking relax. 

“Well my best friend’s supposed friend asked him to go to his abuser's grave on said abuser's birthday. I think I have every right to be furious.” 

Jean blinks at her and then a huge smile graces his face. “You're getting soft.” 

“Fuck you.” 

“Merci Sara.” He tells her, turning his luminous, innocent grey eyes on her. 

She has to swallow against the lump in her throat. She wants to protect this man from all the evil the world wants to continue to throw at him, and she'll be damned if Kevin fucking Day is the one who drags him back into hell. 

“Eat your food Frenchie before the locusts get here.” 

He snorts. Its quiet for about five minutes until Jean pipes up again. 

“Did you see Johnson's swing at practice yesterday? Terrible.” 

She smiles and proceeds to bitch with him about the underperforming freshmen. 

They were able to finish brunch without the appearance of their lovers. Apparently they had decided to run to the beach to pick up their favorite acai bowls and were enjoying a leisure walk back. 

Sara and Jean decided to extend their brunch, grabbing a blanket and camping out on the quad close to the dorms. 

“What are you going to do when Laila graduates?” 

Sara groans. It was only September but she was trying so hard not to think about Laila’s graduation and departure from USC. She stops painting Jean's nails a bright blue and pulls out her phone. She flicks around and hands it to him. 

She goes back to painting his thumb but she can hear the intake of breath. “Is that?” 

“Mhm.” 

“When did you get it?” 

She blows on his thumb and motions for his other hand. He carefully places the phone down and gives her his naked hand. 

“Remember that weekend Laila and I got into that huge fight?” 

“Dieu. Oui. C'était terrible.” 

She smiles, her French is getting better and it only took her like six seconds to translate in her head. 

“It was absolutely terrible.” She rolls her vowels, playfully teasing his accent. He rolls his eyes and motions for her to continue. 

“Well it was about that.” She nods to the picture on the phone. Jean gasps. 

“You asked already?” 

Sara shakes her head. “No. That was the problem. We were talking about the future and she started talking about marriage. I made it clear I didn't believe or want to get married.” 

Jean frowns, obviously confused by that and the contrary evidence on her phone. 

“ The two days she refused to even look at me were enough. I don't ever want to spend another day without her by my side and if that takes a ring and a wedding then I'm all for it.” 

“ Do you think she would have left you if you didn't ask?” Jean asked quietly. 

“I don't want to find out.” She blows on his fresh paint, capping the bottle. She motions for him to continue to blow as she digs in her bag for the green she wanted for herself. 

Jean hums taking the newly found paint from her hand. He shakes the bottle and cradles her left hand gently. 

“Do you think that's what Jeremy wants?” 

While Sara knows without a doubt that yes. It's something Jeremy wants. More than anything. Those two obviously haven't talked about it yet and she's not about to sway Jean to either side of the decision. 

“I think you need to have a real conversation about that.” 

“That's a yes.” 

Sara shakes her head. “Jean. Look at me.” 

Her favorite backliner tilts his head up from her hand. 

“Laila and I had a lot of conversations about that.” She nods to her phone. 

“That wasn't something I took lightly. If that's what you want you need to talk to him about it.” 

Jean looks like he wants to respond but suddenly there's a Jeremy sized shadow standing to his right. Sara quickly thumbs her phone off when Laila drops to the ground, pressing a sweaty kiss to her bare shoulder. 

Sara watches as Jean leans into Jeremy's touch and knows that everything is going to be alright. 

Three years later at a beautiful reception in late June; Jean gives the best man speech about tipsy brunches, fearless friends, and nail polish on the quad. The silver nail polish and matching engagement ring glinting in the soft light. 

Sara glances at her beautiful wife. Her WIFE. And realizes that things turned out better than alright. Things are perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a self indulgent piece of fluff that features one of my favorite pairs of sporty lesbians.


End file.
